Tuesday, April 22, 2014

The Edge of the World

Hello Smutaholics,
I don't know if you've noticed, but I was offline for a week. The edge of the world is apparently in Pensacola, Florida where there is no Internet access near the beach. I was <<this>> close to sucking dick for wireless. Anyway, I'm home for two days before I leave for the Bondage Expo in Dallas. I CAN'T WAIT!!!

I wanted to thank all of you for your kind words and advice after my last blog post. I was overwhelmed by all the emails, IM's, texts, and comments, so overwhelmed I balled like a baby for two days. I read every. Single. Word. Every time I went to respond to someone...I just couldn't without...well...just...thank you, from the very bottom of my dark little heart, thank you. This is a rough time for me and my family, but your support is fucking priceless and it means more than I can express without wanting to punch myself in the face.

In that same vein, I want to thank those that have submitted entries for my writing contest. Gah! I love them!!!! Every fanfic was like reading a love letter. You REALLY understand my characters, you understand what motivates them, what they love, WHY they love. It was like you were in my head with me, loving them as much as I do. I don't know how I'll choose a winner because they are all special to me for different reasons. In order of submission:

A Chance of Fate WOW! You know this world, my world, like the back of your hand and it damn well shows. You took Caleb and turned him into a high school jock and somehow he was STILL Caleb. All the characters were spot on - Livvie, Celia, Felipe, KID! (Oh, I love that you included him), Rafiq...you found a place for all of them in this fic. I also loved the mention of Caleb's Kittens and the photo shoot where you depicted the actual covers. Well done!!

Dark Twist HOLY SHIT! It's like you crawled directly into my head and hijacked all my dirty dreams. I LOVED THIS!! Again, each character was so beautifully, achingly, pain-stackingly TRUE to themselves that I couldn't breathe because my chest felt so...ugh, I think I shed a tear in the middle of this super HAWT fanfic. There really isn't anything Caleb wouldn't do to prove his love, is there? I love that fucking man. And Reed!! PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Cradle of Darkness You broke my heart. BROKE IT!! Again, I was amazed by how well you know Caleb and Livvie. This was as close to re-telling Captive in the Dark from the 'If Caleb Were Kidnapped by Livvie' perspective that I couldn't get over it for hours. There ARE things that are difficult for me to write and for some reason, when it comes to Caleb, MY CALEB, in pain...I just shy away. You took it there and it was wonderful, and sad, and perfect. Brava!

Rotten Jealousy This was an assault in the best way. It made me wonder what Livvie would be like if she'd been more fragile, weak, and broken by her ordeal with Caleb. What if he fostered such co-dependency in her that she became...mush. Though short, I enjoyed the idea and it really took their story in a new direction. I adored the fragmented sentences that were reminiscent of my style in the book. Very nice portrayal of obsession. Great job!

Trading Places Soo cute! And smexy! At one point I actually said (aloud) "OH NO, HE DIDN'T!", and then I giddily giggled for way longer than is proper. You had it right - if Caleb ever allowed for this - he would DEFINITELY try to top from the bottom. This was also kind of beautiful in its way, because I imagine that Caleb was feeling very vulnerable and hiding it the way he usually does, and STILL he went on with it, gave of himself to the person he loves most in the world. Wonderful!

The contest is still open, so please consider submitting something. I love them, and you, so much. Details HERE.

Speaking of fanfic though...I promised on Facebook that I would write a new Caleb/Livvie story if I received 25 Shares on the post about my contest. You delivered! The story is NOT finished, but I'm having a great time with it and I think you should too. You can read what I have so far and post your comments and suggestions for where you'd like the story to go next. Happy reading.


Whispers in the Dark
by CJ Roberts

A/N: This is strictly AU and not 'part of the series', but enjoy it nonetheless. Also, please forgive my rough draft. ;)

Caleb smiled as consciousness crept over him slowly. Livvie was pressed against his back, naked and warm, her deep breaths in his ear. She’d never spooned him before. The feeling was alien, but kind of nice. He shifted a bit and was surprised to find Livvie’s body covered him from head to toe. There was something odd about that, he thought. Wait. There was something really odd about that.

No more creeping; consciousness slammed into him and his adrenaline spiked. He sat up in bed and threw the covers off of them. Tits! He had fucking tits! He looked beside him and screamed a girly scream as he encountered his own body lying in the bed next to him.
His body opened its eyes in panic and sat up, staring at him in horror as they both screamed into one another’s faces. Caleb continued to scream as he watched his body faint and collapse onto the mattress.

Caleb scrambled out of bed on shorter legs than he was accustomed and raced into the bathroom to look at his reflection in the mirror. Livvie’s terrified eyes stared back at him in the mirror. “What the fuck?” Caleb whispered in Livvie’s voice. With trembling hands, he touched his breasts and encountered his pebbled nipples. He gasped. “No, no, no, no, no.” Continuing his exploration, he brushed his polished fingernails down his soft brown stomach and reached into his lace panties. His palm curled over his pussy. He stared at himself in the mirror, still unable to process what was happening and yet aware that it most certainly was happening – he’d switched bodies with Livvie.

Licking familiar lips in an unfamiliar way, he steeled himself for what he had to do next. His head poked out of the bathroom slowly and he let himself look at his body, the body he wasn’t fucking inhabiting, on the bed. Livvie was in there, probably just as terrified as he was. Regardless of his new tits and pussy, he was still a man, and his job was still to protect Livvie no matter what.
He…she…whatever, took hesitant steps toward the bed and gently sat next to…Livvie. “Livvie,” he whispered and carefully nudged her/his shoulder. “Please, Livvie, wake up. This shit is too weird to go through alone.” Livvie groaned deep in her throat and it came out sounding gruff, threatening, and distinctly male. It freaked Caleb the hell out, but he ignored his fear in a way he’d perfected over the course of his life.

Livvie’s eyelids began to flutter. She could hear a feminine voice coaxing her toward waking. Claudia? I don’t remember her staying the night. Livvie stretched and her limbs felt as though they went on forever. “Mmm,” she moaned. She felt…a little aroused…but in a way she’d never felt before; it throbbed instead of tingled and the location was a little different; lower belly instead of between her legs.

“Please don’t freak out again, Livvie. I need your help to figure this out.”

“Mmhmm,” Livvie sighed. She was really trying to get up but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Livvie! You’re in my fucking body. Wake up!” A panicked voice said and broke through Livvie’s fog. Her thoughts organized themselves in rapid fire. She’d woken up and come face to face with herself, but not herself, someone else in her body. She’d fainted.

Livvie shot up in bed, panting, and came face to face with herself again. Full of instincts she didn’t know she possessed, she tackled her doppelganger and pinned her—it—to the bed. “Who the fuck are you and why do you look like me?” Livvie paused at the sound of her voice and took notice of her long, pale, and muscled arms. She gasped and scrambled away from the body beneath her, knocking everything off the nightstand in the process.  She stared at the person struggling to sit up on the bed.

“Livvie,” her doppelganger whimpered. “I know! But please, calm down.” She sat up, sniffled, and wiped tears from her eyes. “Fuck. I never realized how strong I am. Do me a favor and watch your…my…strength. That really hurt.”

“What the hell is going on?” Livvie said. “Why do I sound like a man?” She stretched her arms out in front of her and recognized Caleb’s arms.  She ran her hands over her chest and noticed a distinct lack of breasts and the presence of hard muscle. She locked eyes with her doppelganger and slowly reached farther down for her…Oh my god, I have a dick. Caleb’s dick! “C-Caleb? Baby? Are you in there?”

‘Caleb’ nodded. “Yeah, I’m in here. Please come here and let me hold you.”

Livvie nodded. She could really use a hug right now. Closing the distance between them, she awkwardly arranged her masculine limbs so that Caleb could wrap his feminine arms around her and rock them. “Caleb, how did this happen? How do we make it stop?”

“I don’t know, Kitten. We’ll figure it out though, I promise. We just have to think logically about this, retrace out steps. For all we know, all we have to do is go back to sleep and wake up in our own bodies.” He kissed Livvie’s stubbled cheek. This is too weird.

“Caleb, for all we know this is permanent! Oh, God! What if it’s permanent?” She began to hyperventilate.

Caleb rocked back and forth with more force. “Shhh, Kitten. Don’t panic, you’ll faint again, and you’re way too heavy for me to lift in this condition.” He forced a laugh. “Why didn’t you ever tell me I’m so heavy?” Livvie started crying. “Shit. Come on, Kitten. You’re going to ruin my reputation if you keep crying like that,” he said, only half joking.
“You were crying!” She accused in Caleb’s voice but with her own whiny intonation.

“I was not! That was like, one tear, and I’m sure it was on account of your girl hormones reacting to being hit by a fucking wall of solid muscle. Seriously, your body—my body—is a trained killing machine. You have to specifically try not to hurt me until we get this figured out.”

“Stop trying to make me laugh. This is serious, Caleb.” Livvie drew her limbs in as tightly as possible to surround herself in Caleb’s comforting embrace, but her new body wouldn’t allow for much.

“I know it’s serious, Livvie. I also know that sitting around crying and wondering what the hell is going on has never helped anyone. We’ve been through more serious tragedies. We’ll get through this too.” Caleb stroked Livvie’s hair in the way he enjoyed. He didn’t enjoy having a man in his lap, even if the body belonged to him; it was too reminiscent of a past long buried and dead. He held onto his wits for Livvie’s sake.

Silence stretched out between them for several minutes. “I’m sorry, “ Livvie whispered calmly.

“I understand,” he replied honestly.

“Do you really think it could be as simple as going back to sleep and waking up?” Livvie wasn’t confident in the solution, but then again, waking up in your boyfriend’s body wasn’t exactly a thing you could Google.

Caleb’s heart began a wild beat. The most logical solution would be to do everything exactly as they had done the day before in the hopes of replicating and therefore reversing whatever had happened. His problem stemmed from the knowledge that he’d have to let Livvie fuck him, a thought that twisted his insides if he contemplated it too long. He cleared his throat. “We can try it. If it doesn’t work…” He licked his soft, girl lips nervously. “We’ll try something else.”

“What do we do in the meantime? I obviously can’t go to work like this and I definitely don’t want you wandering around in my body.”

His interest was piqued. “What are you afraid I’ll discover? I have half a mind to visit with all your male co-workers you seem too fond of.”

Livvie sat up and glared at Caleb. “You wouldn’t dare!” Caleb smirked and raised a brow. It was disconcerting to see her own face mimicking an expression she’d seen thousands of times on Caleb’s. Like staring into a mirror while it does something you’re not.

"I would dare a lot of things, Livvie." He smiled.

Livvie grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Oh, but baby...you're forgetting about all the new things I can do in this body." She reached up and placed a firm grip on Caleb's shoulder. She shivered when she detected fear in Caleb's eyes. She felt powerful in a way she never had before, like she'd woken up with superpowers. Heat pooled in her stomach and a heavy weight began to take shape. She glanced down her body and gasped through a wide smile. Her first hard-on was glorious! Her eyes cut back to Caleb.

His eyes were wide. "You—” he cleared his throat and swallowed, “You wouldn’t fucking dare.”

“Oh, Caleb. I would dare a lot of things.”

To be continued...

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

The Importance of being Earnest

Hello to all my faithful, thanks for stopping by the blog and taking an interest in what I have to say. Truthfully, I'm not typically this honest with those outside my small circle, but lately, I feel as though I am the only person in my circle so I'm venturing out. At my core, I'm an insecure person who needs constant validation, probably because I've never felt good enough.

I know, sounds stupid right? Well, my issues go way back and I'm too old to learn new tricks, so here we are. Several years ago, before I knew shit about blogs and was the last person to get a MySpace account (just as everyone was moving to Facebook), I used to send out a newsletter filled with my deepest thoughts to my closest friends. Before that, I used to keep a journal. The newsletters were helpful to me because it gave me an opportunity to sort through my thoughts and emotions in the hopes of solving whatever dilemma I was experiencing at the time. My friends used to write me back with advice, affirmations, or simple compliments. It used to get me through the day. But friends move, they get busy, and time takes it's piece out of all of us. When we finally see one another, we don't talk about the bad because we'd rather celebrate our reunion. Soon, every person is an island and they've been there so long they don't bother putting out on SOS.

As a public personality I often feel like sharing myself is outside the bounds of good judgement. After all, people don't really want to know me, they want to know about the fiction I create. And for the most part, that's perfectly acceptable to me. However, the problem I am faced with currently is I can't create. I can't create because I'm living in the real world and its sort of kicking my ass right now.

I should be on cloud nine! The Dark Duet is still paying my rent (thank God), I have a graphic novel in the works, I've made the USA Today and the NYT, I get over 100 new likes on my Facebook page weekly, and in a few weeks I'll start touring - life should be fucking great! So why can't I 'get it up'?

My life isn't glamorous. I do the same things every day. I wake up and get my kids ready for school, drop them off, hit the gym, come home and clean my house, and then try to write something before I have to pick up my kids, do homework, start dinner, and try to be as attentive to my family as I can. In summation, I'm probably no different than everyone else. That said, I have to wonder if everyone else feels as lost and lonely as I often do.

People often ask where my characters come from and the truth is, they are pieces of me. They hurt deeply and hide it well. They fight tooth and nail for the things that matter. They see things in grey because they've learned there is no black or white. They lash out and inflict as much pain on others as they feel themselves. They're assholes. They're funny. They're willing to do anything to be loved, but terrified to love because they fully expect to find themselves alone one day. They don't live in the moment, but in a preconceived and bleak future. They self-destruct.

I'm self-destructing. For months, I've been hiding from my laptop, unable to write anything meaningful because it means I would have to open up a vein and bleed my truth. I don't want to write. I don't want to acknowledge that there are parts of me missing. Because, where did they go? How do I get them back? What stupid thing will I do to feel alive again? Who pays the price for my restlessness?

I spend all my free time with my face buried in books I didn't write. I ignore calls. I don't answer emails. I don't stock my fridge until I absolutely have to. I don't dream. I don't fantasize. I just read other people's words, letting them distract me. I'm ruining what could be a promising career because I cant. Fucking. Write!

I thought posting my teaser for Commitment would galvanize me into knocking out the chapters floating around in my brain. I wrote 500 words and then reached for my Kindle. Pathetic.

In this moment of lucidity, I've written this post for myself. I've put it out to you so that you can kick my fucking ass and hold me accountable. Remind me that what I'm doing is weak and I'm not allowed to wallow in self-pity. Boo-fucking-hoo, CJ! You have one damn thing you do well and that's write! You want to be worth something? You want to prove you've got what it takes? No one is going to give you anything; you have to take it! Stop being a whiny little bitch and put some damn words on paper because otherwise, you're just a sad mess of a girl who would rather read than live out her dreams. Stop being someone you can't stand. You want to be happy? Take your pills. You want to be an artist? Write.